Gravity
by Caelta
Summary: From the heights of a limitless sky and falling fast, Alto finds an interesting perspective. A/R


Sooner or later, we all must come back to earth.

For those lucky enough to be skilled in the art of defying gravity, the suspension could be prolonged. But even on the Vajra's planet, the old cliché "what goes up must come down" was still true enough.

Alto enjoyed the surreal as much as he enjoyed the height; each time he flew, unbounded and limitless in a true atmosphere, the pilot climbed upwards as far as he could reach, so high he couldn't breathe, before finally assuming a streamlined V-shape and dropping, falling faster and faster, until he finally caught himself just before the crash and landed, lightheaded and careening, effortlessly upright.

His brother, somewhat irritatingly, had been right all along—just not in the same sense with which he'd tried to coax the pilot into coming home.

Alto, above all else, was an actor. He took on what roles were needed of him and became them, soared with them, and accomplished what was expected of him in this way. He had done this first with his mother, then for the nation, and Sheryl.

They were, the two of Them, his wings. Sheryl gave him his altitude, his breathless burst of surreal, and Ranka was what kept him coming back, what grounded him. His sky and his whole planet in two, and that was a difficult choice.

But what went up must always, always come down, as without gravity there would be no use for wings at all and no atmosphere to speak of.

What made him finally hit the ground was the day he was asked—by a curious onlooker, a witness to his acrobatics—"Who are you?" and he could no longer answer "Saotome Alto."

Because who was that? A pilot? A war hero? The boyfriend of that famous pop-star, Sheryl Nome?

Those were things he did, things he bent to because of how he was needed, but not an accurate description of the person he truly was. This left him asking the every-mysterious question "who am I?" and to his mirror, no less.

Sheryl needed him, and so he stayed. Ranka, however, did not need or take of him in the slightest; she'd effectively proven that the day she'd run off into dangerous territory with her brother Brera and that Vajra she called Ai, soul searching.

And what was more, she _gave_. Not only to him, but to the entire fleet and nation. She was the embodiment, the songstress, of hope, after all.

For her, he'd never had to be anyone else but himself. Although he'd joined the SMS, the war was inescapable and the Valkyrie tempting.

Neither, however, had as strong a pull or as great an inevitability as gravity.

Ironic, too, that his whole life was built upon an act, and the one moment of clarity, her kiss, had literally been a part in a script.

So then, beyond the act so convincing even _he_ believed it, a gift born in his blood, what did _he_ want, not for others, but for himself?

Perhaps because he still had this question roving around in his mind or perhaps because he was still flying at maximum altitude after seeing Sheryl that morning, the very next time Alto saw Ranka—which happened to be that afternoon as he met her in the park for a picnic, accompanied by the amicable Ai-kun and a heaping portion of Nyan-Nyan—he fell. Dropped a thousand meters per second, fell straight out of all pretensions and preconceptions, forgot all about something called "landing gear," and crashed—lips first, of course—straight into his world.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed it! That is, the end of Frontier made me so mad it inspired me to fix it~ ...because, honestly, who introduces a protagonist that doesn't get the guy? Not that Sheryl isn't pretty neat in her own right, just...I suppose I ended up rooting for the wrong side of the love triangle, ne? My own opinions aside (or maybe not quite), I'm actually very surprised that I got through this piece without a single piece of dialogue, this being supposed longer-number-turned-oneshot. What can I say? My oneshots turn into chapters, and whaddya know, my chapters turn into oneshots. ;)

Now, I know how it feels to be -that guy- that decides "hey, I'm sure someone else will leave a review...I mean, what can I possibly say?" because...to tell the truth, I'm very, very guilty of that myself. But hey, I'm not psychic, so, if you liked it, feel free to let me know-because it will be greatly appreciated!


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